The Don of Selvagens
by Katinka the Brave
Summary: Second Story Challenge "A death in the pueblo", which contains the next elements: Someone dies or is "presumed dead", a lace hanky, Zorro uses his whip, Albondigas Soup, the Alcalde is in a jail cell. Forget everything about you know of the episodes, read it with an open mind and enjoy the story.
1. Jail's despair

A death in the pueblo

The second story challenge"A death in the pueblo" needs to have at least the following subjects:  
- Someone must die or be "presumed dead".  
- You must include a lace hanky  
- Zorro must use his whip  
- You must mention Albondigas Soup  
- The Alcalde must be in a jail cell.

_Disclaimer: All rights reserved to Zorro Productions. This is not intended to infringe upon any rights by Goodman/ Rosen Productions/ New world Television, Zorro Productions, the estate of John McCullay or anyone else. It is just to entertain other fans._

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**The Don of Selvagens**

_It is so dark here, can't believe anyone remains sane after all this time being here. Counting the stones, counting the times the sun lights those little squaremeters, counting the times I have been thinking about home, my friends and … everything I have lost._

A lone man, with a dark beard and mustache stared at the wall in front of him, having lost track of the times he had been pondering over this thought and had almost lost counting the hours, the days, the weeks and even the months he had been sitting there. Blues started inspecting the stones again and wondered whether he should start giving each piece of the cold material names at all. Will he stay in the confined room long enough to have given each stone a name and remember them in the end?

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door, announcing his dinner, existing from only a piece of dry bread and a cup of water. With some luck, a piece of old meat would be among the ruminations of the "host's" dinner, but mostly that only happened when another prisoner had been executed or died from misery. With a dry thought he dismissed the idea that the meat could have been from that unlucky person.

The man, called Frontierra, who was in charge of this hell, really was an evil man enjoying the sight of mistreatment and was always in for a punishment, the scars on his body were evidence enough to believe it.  
The young man had held his head high when he was under interrogation, never letting the humiliation and pain show on his handsome features. The whip had been a true master for the lesson keeping your mouth closed as nobody was going to believe in his innocence. "Obey and your time will pass by quietly, making the best of your ordeal," were the words after the last hit he got.

After that mortal flogging, he thought he surprisingly survived, he kept thinking about the things he had said and never would. He was at the wrong place at the wrong time. How could he know that there were groups preparing an attack at the king? He would never attack the king. His father had taught him to respect the king as the owed the king a lot.  
Dismissing the memories he hurried over to the door, where he eagerly accepted the food and ate it at high speed as if there

were others who would steal it from him. But no one was there in the same room. When he realized this, he ate at a slower piece and thought with sarcasm, "Why should I hurry, I have plenty of time and there is no one to talk to."

A sound next to him made him jump and spill his water.  
"Who the blaze are you!" the young man scolded at an old man who suddenly appeared through the wall.  
"Excuse me," the man with a red beard and mustache with about the same length as his beard and mustache sounded friendly, however confused, "I must have miscalculated. This isn't the outside wall."

"No, it obviously isn't," the young man stated as a matter of factly, still trying to comprehend the situation. "But who are you?"  
"My name, young man, is Edmond, for you," the man smiled brightly, "for the outside world it would be Sir Edmond Kendall."  
The young man's eyebrows rose in recognition of the name. This man would have been his teacher the next semester. He had seen the man before when he crossed the hall's of university, but he wouldn't have recognized him if the man hadn't just told him.

"You seem to have lost your tongue young man. Don't be impressed by titles, whereas they are of no use in prison. Even in real life they are worth nothing. All people of society, who think they are the world, are nothing but hypocrites, manipulative people and beasts hidden behind masks of fake politeness."  
"What about the king?" the young man asked shocked at the obvious traitorous insinuation.  
"A king is needed to herd the sheep, but even he has his doubtful actions," answered the old man with a long red long curling hair. "I can see you have much to learn, but before I start teaching you, I would like to know your name."

The young man was too shocked to introduce himself, which was rewarded with a large smile. The old man didn't care a bit about the young man's lack of manners.  
"It seems I turned your world upside down. Why don't call I you Rafael after the archangel. I promise you my friend, you will get the journey of your life! I am just too excited to have finally have a companion after all the work I had done to get out of here."

Rafael's education started from that moment on. Days turned into weeks, which turned into months before they realized that another year had passed. The young man grew, mentally, physically and even spiritually.  
One day the old man asked the question the young man dreaded to be asked and answer in the beginning, "what did you do to upset the king?"

Rafael shrugged his shoulder while he huffed, "I would say I am innocent, but it seems everyone is in here."  
"Not really," the master replied, "we are only the king's disgrace. So what did you do?"  
"Being at the wrong place at the wrong time, I suppose," Rafael suggested with a dry edge.

"And where was that?"  
"I was on my way to the west side of Madrid to find my fiancé, when I accidentally met a riot." The young man narrated slowly.  
"I have a feeling I shouldn't ask you why you were going to find her," the older man asked rhetorically.

A humorous laugh that answered the question told Edmond to be silent. With his patience the story surely would be told. Restless, the young man stood up, paced the small room a few times and sloughed against the wall. The only sound heard was the vibration of the air that both men breathed out.

After another many seconds had passed, Rafael faced the master swordsman.  
"My father had sent me to Madrid to study, so I would be able to take his place in society at home. I had only been in Madrid for two months, when I met her. We fell in love and wanted to wait to marry when I graduated. Just the heart was stronger than the mind. When I knew her four months I asked her to marry me as soon as possible.

"As we agreed, I made the arrangements with the priest in Colmenar. He was kind, very understanding. He counseled patience. I guess he could see my growing anxiety. And so I waited, thinking only of you, making plans for our future, planning our family.

And so I sat and waited for her, I felt. . . confused. Absentminded I drew figures with a stick in the dirt at his feet. Going over her every word in my mind. I knew that we shared a promise, a devotion. Then I realized she wasn't going to come at all. I was utterly heartbroken."

After a deep sigh to retrieve his composure he explained why he went after her. "Still, I couldn't believe she had let me down, and I figured something must have gone wrong and a friend of mine wasn't able to give her my message about the time the wedding could take place. Maybe her father had second thoughts or maybe she was feeling she wasn't good enough to become my wife. …"

"Why would that be?" Sir Kendall questioned with a hard edge in his voice. He couldn't understand why his pupil would think this way. He had found that the young man had more in him then he had showed and he wanted his pupil to see it for himself too.  
"I .. eh… you will probably be angry with me," stammered the tall pupil.

"Try me," Sir Kendall challenged. At the shy and careful glance he got he added, "If I get angry, we'll settle it with another battle."  
A spark showed in the blue eyes, the older man had come to know so well.

"Because I am Diego de la Vega, a distant relative of the king." His stance was confident and it looked as if he was ready for the fight to come and eager to win it.  
The older man only got more relaxed under the icy challenging stare. Looking at his dirty and broken fingernails he said, "I am glad you finally feel you can trust me."

"You're not angry?" Diego asked confused after all time they had shared with so many conversations and somehow he felt lost because he looked forward to a good battle between the two of them.  
"No, I am not," the man replied with an approving smile, "Actually, I can understand why you never mentioned your name. You are a smart man, Diego, never doubt your intelligence and be proud of your heritage. And try to work on your poker face a bit more, because I can really tell you wanted me to become angry for the battle I had promised."

Diego's head bent at the reprimand.  
"However, I don't mind having you at sword's end, as you still have to learn many things."  
At that Diego practically jumped up to get the swords. After they saluted an interesting battle was started, in which the master was not spared nor was the student. Even in the confined, dark room, which was lightened with only one burning candle, there seemed to be space enough for retreat and attack.

"Is that all you have got?" Sir Kendall taunted, "after all this time, you have nothing new on your sleeve?"

Diego only smiled recognizing the pestering to have him in a moment of blindness, making his defense vulnerable, but he didn't catch the bait. His answer was a double riposte followed by an addition of his own and took the man down with a sweep of his foot. Before Diego was able to have the tip of his sword, a plain piece of wood, at his adversary's throat, the man rolled away with his sword still in his hand. With a quick parade Diego's sword was slammed backward, while the young man was aiming for the master's throat.

It seemed the master was going to win the battle, but with a fast contre-attaque Diego was able to disarm him. Again Diego had a smirk on his face when he was moving his sword toward his adversary to bring him on his knees in surrender. He just wasn't prepared for the knife that was suddenly directed at his face. His mind reacted as quick as he had never experience. His right strong hand with slim fingers took the hand with the knife, followed by his left hand, which took the upper arm that held the dangerous weapon. With an immense force he brought the arm down on his leg, making the knife drop. To make sure the danger was really eliminated, he turned the arm to have it put on the other man's back and pressed him down to the floor. Not so much forgivingly he jumped on the man.

"Alright," Sir Kendall breathed heavily, however smiling content with the student's abilities, "I see the puppy can bite."  
Diego had a proud look on his face at the compliment.  
"Let's see if you can do that with perception as well."  
"What do you mean?"

"We haven't figured out why you have been locked up it," the master reminded his student. Diego really was confused and repeated his statement. "Like I said, I was at the wrong time and the wrong place, making people believe I was one of the riots."  
"Wrong," a harsh tone of voice answered his statement. With a softer expression the old man explained, "she could have sent you a message. Wasn't there anything particular about the situation? Maybe it was with the padre who seemed too patient, or a friend who was too much a friend of yours."

Diego took a moment to think about the suggestions.  
Suddenly a thought crossed his mind. One of his friends had gone to announce his coming to the priest, because he was too noble and felt obliged to bring his lady and her friends to one of her friend's home, before he went to the church.

"Manguero is befriended with some students who had a scholarship. Some of our exams had been taken and I know there were a few, who were not so good at those subjects."  
"Go on," the master swordsman continued while he played with his sword.

"Even one of them had a friend, who had an eye on the woman I asked to become my wife." A flashback of a party popped up the surface.  
"Good, go on," Edmond encouraged.  
"That guy wasn't as honest as I am in school. He cheated. Everyone knew."  
"How was she?"

Diego blinked at the question, knowing the master he didn't ask without reason and answered without hesitation."She was as naive as I was, her father was a merchant, but he wasn't a very honest man either with prejudice against the royalty." Diego's mind was working fast to comprehend the situation. A bad feeling started to grow about Sir Kendall's suggestion that it wasn't all gold that glitters.

"Wouldn't the father want to have you for a son?" Sir Kendall continued interrogating his pupil.  
"He had accused me of being too loyal, fair and soft to everyone around me." Speaking out this insult caused old pain to find a way out. Diego hadn't known it had hurt him more than he had let on. Still he tried to suppress it.  
Sir Kendall denied all emotions and went on. He somehow had seen the whole situation through, but his pupil had to figure it out for himself. "How about that other student? Would he fit in the vision of the father? Wouldn't he come up with a plan to get you out of the way?"

Suddenly Diego jumped up, angrily kicking against the wall where he found his sword and in a redness of outrage he attacked Sir Kendall. The master was prepared for this and allowed his student to vent his emotions. After a few strikes the master felt the younger man was coming to his sense.  
Flabbergasted and curious Sir Kendall asked, "Who is DeSoto?"

_-Z-_

to be continued

A/N I really hope you like this chapter. There is more to come and I will upload the next chapter as soon as possible.


	2. tavern's cruelties

Many, many months later, alcalde DeSoto was having lunch in the tavern. He was restless. As he just had to sit and wait for others to rule his life. Only one special letter would change his life forever, but it seemed it never came. He knew he wasn't the only citizen of the pueblo who was waiting a long time for a message from the mother country.

Since there was no one to talk to he pondered over his stay in the pueblo. He hoped to get out of it as soon as possible and return to his beloved Madrid. He wondered how much longer he could threaten Don Alejandro de la Vega before his mission would really end. Just some things were not going as planned.

Victoria showed up at his table immediately after he had sat down like he had drilled her. He accepted nothing but good service in this little town, a nightmare, while he was mostly literally sitting out his time.  
"Would you like some albondigas soup, alcalde?" Victoria suggested and couldn't hide some enthusiasm she had gotten from the little things of life. "I tried this recipe in one of the new kettles I bought this morning on the market. Sergeant Mendoza just told me he could taste the difference."

Victoria tried to hide how much she had enjoyed the interaction with the dark haired kettle seller. If she hadn't watched him from a distance before she visited his stall, she wouldn't have noticed he was actually flirting with her. He wasn't her type, she figured remembering his rough appearance. Still, she wasn't the marrying kind. She only wanted deep true love, being struck by a lightening.

Despite of that she felt sympathy for the man, of whom she couldn't really guess his age, but somehow knew that he couldn't be older than twice her age. It just didn't matter, because she liked their interaction, making daily stress fade into the corners of her life. The way he had acted was genuine, she was sure of that. The man had a good heart. Who else would obviously tried his utmost to make every client go home with a large smile on his face? That hadn't been a difficult task, as he had very good prizes, which made the buyers happy before they had even met the man.

Thinking about the man's attitude she smiled and standing in front of the alcalde, she hoped the alcalde would suspect her smile was caused by Mendoza's reaction on her soup.  
Dismayed the alcalde took the time to have a short look at her radiant face, "if the sergeant says so it must be true. He never stops thinking about food."  
"Well that is true," Victoria agreed and decided she had better offer something else to carress his grumpy mood, "I also have enchiladas on the menu or I could make you my beef's specialty."

"I'll have the albondigas soup," the alcalde announced with a light voice, "whatever you make is always good, but allow me the pleasure of judge the difference."  
Victoria only gave a short nod and turned on her heels to fetch the order. Instead, she was stopped by a demanding hand encircling her wrist. "My dear, bring me also that enchilada."  
Victoria met the cold fearless blue eyes with a challenging look of her own, when she lifted one of the corners of her mouth to a polite understanding smile, the hand fell from her wrist giving permission to go to the kitchen.

Not much later the alcalde's order was perfectly served at his table, "Is there anything else you need?"  
"Why yes," the alcalde said openly glancing at Victoria, "and you know what I mean."  
Victoria sniffled loudly at his reminder, which the alcalde noticed, "but I can be a patient man."  
"Have a good lunch Alcalde," Victoria said curtly and got out of his way at once.

Grinning, the alcalde started eating his lunch, but it didn't take long before he was rudely disturbed when sergeant Mendoza ran into the tavern and bumped against his table. His albondigas soup got spilled over the table. While she was filling some glasses with drinks, out of the corner of her eye Victoria had noticed the vegetables wasting his silk cravat and immediately came forward with a cloth to clean up the mess.  
"You imbecile!" the alcalde scolded.

"I am so sorry Alcalde," Mendoza rapidly spoke, "an officer past the pueblo and had a message for you that I had to give it to you immediately."  
"Then hand it over," the alcalde was irritated by the sergeant's clumsiness, having underlined the perception of having always been surrounded by fools.  
The sergeant moved into action at the tone of voice and put the parch roll into his superior's outstretched hand.

"You're dismissed sergeant," the alcalde said looking at the man sternly as his sergeant still stood at his table. Then he turned his head to the woman at the other side of the table. "That will be enough, senorita, get back to the other customers."  
Victoria swallowed and took a deep breath to prevent exploding, then turned on her heels and went to the other customers as she was told.

Don Alejandro had watched the interaction between Victoria and the alcalde and wished he could do something to help her. How could he, when he wasn't even able to help himself out of his ordeal?  
A few seconds later Victoria appeared at the bar to fetch some drinks for other old friends.  
"What was that about?" Don Alejandro curiously asked.  
"Not sure," Victoria answered and shared her thoughts; "he must have got some bad news from the governor or something like that. His mood gets worse by the day."

"You must be right," Don Alejandro agreed while emptying another bottle of wine. "He still hopes to receive a message containing instructions about his replacement."  
"As do we," Victoria grimaced over her shoulder as she walked away with a tray with glasses wine filled.  
When Victoria met Don Alejandro at the bar a minute later, she opened another subject. "Haven't you still received any news from your son?"

"None at all, senorita." The old man sighed and seemed getting much older by the day. "it has almost been five years now."  
After a short silence Victoria stated, "I still can't believe he could do that to you, Don Alejandro."  
At first Don Alejandro was confused, but when he saw her staring at the subject of her daily frustrations, he realized she had changed the subject.

"Well, at least I still have my title." The Don sounded defeated, but alive. "Really Victoria, I wish my son was here. He is so much like me that I doubt that he would have sit and watched the things happening like they have."  
"We should keep faith." Victoria laid her hand on the older man's hand to give him some comfort. Over the years they really had gotten a very special bond. Some strangers had asked whether she was his daughter as the older man was always around. Even some men had asked Don Alejandro for her hand in marriage. She still smiled when she thought about some of the reactions they got from the older man.

"Honestly I pray every day for a message or his safe return."  
"As do I, Don Alejandro."  
Don Alejandro looked up to face the beautiful woman he held so dear in his heart. The young woman was spirited. Despite of all the things she had been through, she had a big heart for everyone who is in trouble. And that got her in trouble too. There was no family left anymore to take care after her. Therefore, for as long as he was able to, he had vowed to keep her as safe as possible. It was of no wonder that people who just passed by, thought they were family. In fact he would have been very proud if she had happen to be his daughter.

"If you are talking about your son, you had better stop praying and stop talking and continue doing your jobs." A harsh voice with sarcasm came from behind them. Both turned to face their intruder with open mouth, indignant at the new demand.  
The intruder continued obviously enjoying to sharing this news, "I just received a message from Spain. It seems, Don Alejandro, that your son is dead."

"That is a lie Alcalde, and you know it!" Don Alejandro hissed between his teeth. He was done with the oppression of this malicious alcalde. The former official hadn't been better and therefore he had requested his son to return home a few years ago. After he had sent that letter he had never got word from his only son.  
"I don't believe it," Victoria tried to give her old friend hope and calm his temper.

"You had better believe it señorita, as this letter came directly from the King." In a taunting manner the alcalde waved the letter in the air, but didn't allow either of them to see it for themselves. Instead he unfolded the letter and read the content out loud for all to hear.  
"There," the official said lightly as he pointed at the corner of the piece of paper, "you find the king's signature. It really is official. So de la Vega, if I may give you one advise, be a good employee or you will loose more than only that beautiful hacienda of yours."

"Don't do it," Victoria whispered a warning to her old friend when she felt the old man's muscles grow tense before attacking.  
"Alcalde," Victoria tried to distract Don Alejandro, and find some hope there, "can't there be a mistake?"  
"Without a doubt, senorita," the grey haired alcalde replied very certain.

Tears formed in Victoria's eyes when she realized she would never see her friend again. Many times she had wondered how he would look like nowadays and if he had forgotten about her. He must have grown into a handsome man, surrounded by many young marriageable women.  
"Don't cry," the alcalde ordered, " you have still customers to attain to." When the man realized that Victoria tried to hide it but had no material to do so, he reached into his pocket for his satin handkerchief.

"Gracias," Victoria whispered with a thick voice, whereafter she inelegantly blew her noose into the thin material.  
With disgust the alcalde watch her handing the hanky back to him, but he refused to take it. "Keep it."  
Victoria took it back and the moment of compassion was gone. "Make sure you both do your jobs or as you both know all too well, you will be out on the street without me giving it a second thought. If there are any riots, I know you will be behind it."

"Mendoza," the official shouted and found his sergeant behind him the next second, which he wasn't expecting. The look of surprise was evidence enough.  
"Si mi alcalde," the sergeant saluted.  
"Stay here all day and watch them do their jobs," the slim alcalde ordered, "if they don't work, they will get no dinner, comprende?"

"Si mi alcalde," the stout sergeant saluted again. The alcalde, however hadn't noticed, whereas he had left the building.  
Regretful, the sergeant watched his old friend facing the hard truth. His son would never come home. Never would he be able to hold his son. Never would he see what a handsome and intelligent man the teen had become. Devastated the old man sank into the nearest chair.

"I am deeply sorry for your loss," the sergeant spoke softly and his unease with the situation was plainly written on his face.  
"I ... I don't believe it," Victoria stated again not wanting to face reality. "It simply can't be."  
Don Alejandro was speechless, too shocked to even notice what was said around him since a few friends came forward to pay their respect, let alone the man was able to think what it meant for the future, for the dreams and hopes he had for his son and with his son.

When everybody had returned their seat, Don Alejandro was still sitting on his chair like a statue.  
"I hate to say this, but really you both must get back to your jobs. I would really hate it to lock you up in the alcalde's jail and have you eat only a piece of old bread."  
"Sergeant," Victoria's voice held a sharp edge, "can't you see that the man is suffering?"  
"Oh si," Mendoza just couldn't continue as Victoria cut him off.

"You can't expect him to work so hard now."  
"But the alcalde …"  
"Si Mendoza, I know, we know what he had said," Victoria filled in the sergeants argument, "but if he asked, you tell him that Don Alejandro was thinking about plans for the tavern, to make it more profitable. I am sure the alcalde would mind having more money in his dirty pockets."

"Is that what he is doing now?" sergeant stared with large eyes at the man who hadn't moved an inch.  
"Oh Mendoza," Victoria was exasperate at her uniformed friend, who in fact was one of the only few soldiers she really liked in a friendly way.

-Z-

In the meantime alcalde DeSoto was reading the letter, which he had just received, again and decided that he would write a letter to the sender. There we still questions unanswered.

Los Angeles, 21th April 1819  
Señor,  
Hereby I confirm having received your message and immediately, as ordered, I reported the death of Diego de la Vega to his father Don Alejandro de la Vega.  
I cannot see why it is of any importance to report the old man's reaction to the new. However as requested, I inform you that the man was suffering from not having had any news from his son. By your report the insecurity about his son well-being has been taken away, all though, it was devastating news. The man was at a loss for words, heartbroken, stamped into the dust, however Don Alejandro de la Vega is a strong man and it wouldn't be a surprise when he will be able to accept the loss of his only son. I haven't told him about the circumstances of his son's death. Neither did he ask. When he does, or when I tell him, I am sure he will receive another blow, an addition to his suffering over the years. Pray can you reveal why all this taunting is necessary?  
As there hasn't been any information concerning my position in the letter, I wonder if there is a possibility of being transferred in the near future as we had agreed upon?  
Yours sincerely,  
Ignatio DeSoto.

Content the alcalde folded his letter, called out a lancer and sent him away with the letter to San Pedro, where the letter will be shipped.

_-Z-_

to be continued

A/N Thank you so much for your kind reviews, which gave me so much energy. Some had already guessed correctly that my story is much a like the story of The Count of MonteCristo. I love that story and had been dabbling with the idea to write a story based on this one for many years. This was my chance. I will keep you in the dark how I will continue this adventure. I hope you all have a good time reading it. So if you would mind to let me know how you feel about it, I am sure you will make my day, even if you don't like parts of it.


	3. market's fear

A/N Thank you so much for your kind reviews, again. Love you guys for wasn't a great day, and reading your reviews really made me feel better. Anyway, noticing how many people had read the 2nd chapter I also take it a reward. Today I haven't had much time for an upload, but I did it for you. Considder this upload a reward for your kind messages. Because of the time, I have to admit, I haven't checked the grammar as well as I normally do, so if you find (huge) errors, or sentences that are pretty akward, forgive me for it and if you take time for letting me know, I correct it as fast as possible.

With this chapter I probably will keep you in the dark about certain things, but I am sure you will get some questions answered. Enjoy the chapter.

-Z-

A young man stood in front of a stall on the market, inspected the fruit before he handed the merchant a piece of paper. With a nod of his head the young man, however still a teenager with a sharp mind misleading his true age, urged the merchant to read the parchment. The merchant watched the young man shortly, until he realized the young man wasn't going to say a word and read the parchment.  
"You have the money?" the merchant inquired skeptic.

The young man simply nodded again.  
"Alright," the merchant smiled unconditionally believing the young man, without knowing why.  
"Tell Don de Selvagens his order will be delivered within an hour." The happy merchant watched the young man walking to another stall, where the same scene took place.

Don Alejandro and Victoria were on of the other visitors of the weekly market, buying vegetables for the tavern. When they arrived at the stall where the fruit was displayed, they found a radiating merchant.  
"Good morning," both greeted.  
"A good morning indeed," the merchant replied absent minded, staring in the distance.

"It sounds like you have done good business already," Don Alejandro concluded.  
"You really can say that," the merchant smiled and paid them his full attention.  
"In that case, your day can only get better," Victoria announced enjoying the man's happiness, " we would like to order twice the delivery from last week."

The man's face fell. A silence followed.  
"Is there a problem?" Don Alejandro asked sensing the man couldn't meet up their expectation.  
"Eh … well," the merchant stammered, hating to disappoint a loyal client, "the thing is, eh … I am sold out for today."

"Sold out!" Victoria's voice was raised with outrage and despair at the same time. "How is that possible?"  
The man pointed into the direction of the young buyer, who stood at a stall to buy some fabric. "He bought everything."  
"You must be joking," Don Alejandro exclaimed.

"I am not, I assure you."  
Victoria was out of her mind, "this is not happening."  
The merchant shook his head to blow her hopes away like dust in the desert during a windy day, "it really is."  
Victoria panicked and without thought she hurried to the stall the merchant pointed at.

"Hey, you," Victoria addressed the servant when she approached him, and went on when the young man turned at her tap on his shoulder, "señor Quintana told me you bought all his fruit this morning."  
The young man observed her shortly, but in an annoying way he had his attention set on her. She knew that kind of people all too well, thinking she was not only suitable for serving at the table, but for other circumstances as well.  
The young man shrugged slightly with a small nod to confirm her statement.

"Do you really need all his food?" Victoria asked a bit less temperamental.  
The young man nodded again, but his face held an expression, which gave her the feeling she could say anything she wanted and still be respected.  
"Dios mio," Victoria put a hand flat on her forehead, looked up again to the amiable features of the young man, who was probably five years younger than her age, "all the food?"

The young man nodded again and with his stance he silently asked him why she asked.  
"Dios," Victoria said again, "he is going to kill me. He definitely is going to kill me. "  
The young man kept silent, but remained focused on her.

"Can't I please buy some of it?" Victoria practically begged, afraid for retribution.  
The younger man looked doubtful, which added to Victoria's distress and mouthed that he was sorry.  
"I really need that fruit before dinner. Oh, he definitely is going to kill me." Victoria's fear radiated from her whole body and the servant felt sorry for her. Still he had his orders and his eyes gave the message that he would report it to his master. Before Victoria was able to respond to that, the young man had disappeared into the crowd.

Utterly distressed, Victoria continued their shopping and prepared herself for the evenings tormenting moments. Since the kettle seller had chosen to sell his goods at another place, he wasn't here to lift her mood. Victoria searched the plaza, in vain. He really wasn't here, all she saw were the common sellers and those who had a stall less frequently. One of them were the woman who sold cloths, laces and satin, a man who made buckets and a man who sold fried chicken and farmers who presented their harvest. Further on the other side of the corner where the bidding took place, cattle and horses stood waiting for a new owner. She noticed a fisherman bargaining about the price of the fish he caught in the late evening yesterday. She was told that the fisherman preserved his fish during the night and took his to the pueblo in the early morning.

Don Alejandro strolled patiently with her while they bought ingredients for the tavern's meals like vegetables, meat, chicken and spices. Victoria noticed he had been in deep thought. Looking at his features she couldn't but conclude her friend had aged a lot since they received that devastating news. All hopes had been shattered. Thinking of it she realized already two weeks had gone by and somehow Don Alejandro had taken the news as best as could be expected.

She respected the man next to her for showing so much power, for having a drive to go on, when he had lost so much. In fact he had lost his whole life. The hacienda, including everybody who had worked for him, was taken by the alcalde and his only son was dead. She figured she had been his drive to go on. As a matter of fact, Don Alejandro was hers. She had no idea how her brothers were doing and where they were. She had written them a few times.

Contrarily, she was glad there was nothing certain about them, as the alcalde couldn't take the tavern from her. Despite he had a firm hold on her and her business, but she also had some kind of power over him. He allowed Don Alejandro to staying in the building for sake of working for him. It had been quite a transition, but he managed pretty well. With her help.

In return she had had lots of advice and now protection of him being in her surroundings. They have become quite a team and therefore by his looks and his silence, she could guess correctly he was also worried for the evening.  
Under these circumstances she sometimes wondered what it was worth living for. Since two weeks, she felt it was to help her friend, to be a companion and ease the years he still had. As she had concluded earlier, she could be his mission, giving her a future, despite they all felt that hopes and dreams were only ingredients for fairytales. If not for the willpower of the citizens of the pueblo, the pueblo would have been a ghosttown only a year after the alcalde's arrival.

Victoria shrugged her shoulders as if to get rid of a heavy load. Her mood was as black as the dark clouds hanging above them. It promised a storm they only had every once in a while. She thought that it was a fitting decorum for what would be ahead of her and possibly Don Alejandro too.

Having visited all stalls and still, they hadn't had the fruit the alcalde wished for desert on his special day, which would be in a few days. It was just that the alcalde demanded on having a small version of it to check whether she had obeyed him and had bought all ingredients on the market the same day. It was obvious he didn't leave her time to fetch the ingredients from another place and therefore she was deemed to make a bargain with the fruitseller and be dependant on him. Her trust in the world had been bruised, when the fruitseller easily had given her order away. She wouldn't have mind if it weren't for the alcalde. He really made a big deal out of it.

Every year she had asked him what he was celebrating, but he never told why that date was so special. She only knew it wasn't his birthday. Before passing the tavern's threshold, with a heavy heart Victoria looked over her shoulder toward the cuartel, hoping she would come up with a solution for getting the fruits.

However, later that day when Victoria had almost accepted her ordeal, she found a basket overloaded with fruit at the doorstep of her backdoor.

_-Z-_

to be continued

A/N Hoping for more? I don't want to disappoint you, but my scedule won't allow doing more post until after the weekend. At least, I tried to ease your suffering by ending the chapter with some hope.


	4. Kitchen memories

A/N A new chapter.I hope it was worth the waiting. (Katie, my congrats, a present for you a new upload:))

-Z-

Victoria picked up the basket with fruits. Despite its heaviness, it felt as if a huge burden was lifted from her shoulders. Whereas she hadn't seen anyone near and by the way the basket had leaned against the tavern's backdoor, she concluded that the basket was left behind for her. The señorita with curly, black hair wondered whether this mysterious Don Selvagens had left the basket behind for her, or had it left behind by this kind, however silent young servant, she met on the market. Or was it another mysterious person who had a good heart and suddenly decided to help her? It was a big mystery, but she was thankful for it and took it inside to put it on the table, which stood in the middle of the kitchen.  
When Victoria emptied the basket, she found a short note, written in an elegant hand.

_Señorita Escalante,  
Please, accept my gift to face the alcalde without fear for retribution.  
A lovely señorita such as yourself shouldn't be punished for decisions of others.  
You are not alone in this.  
My regards,  
Zorro_

"Zorro," Victoria sighed with a hint of admiration in her voice. The image of this dashing man appeared in her mind. He was the only one who was able to stand up against the alcalde's whims and cruelties without having fear for retribution. This man, wearing a long silk black cape, black whip and impressive sword, had already been a sort of guardian angel of the pueblo for about four months. Unfortunately he hadn't a very stable factor. The masked man hadn't always showed up in time to prevent the cruelties from starting. This afternoon the town's hero hadn't been in time to prevent the alcalde executing the punishment. The poor farmer, who was innocent, had been severely whipped and barely escaped death.

Victoria still saw the hurt expression on his masked face, when Zorro had arrived at the plaza and saw the farmer hardly being able to stand on his feet. The punishment hadn't seemed to end either. Victoria couldn't really see the man's features that were hidden under the black silk mask. However, by the intense stare, which came from his icy blue eyes, she could tell Zorro was in for seeking revenge, but to everybody's admiration, he had held his emotions in check. There were too many soldiers present to keep him at bay from the alcalde, who was whipping the poor man. Despite of the wall of soldiers, Zorro kept on fighting his way to the post to help the innocent farmer. When Zorro saw the man falling down as far as the manacles around the post allowed and stared blankly at nothing in particular, the masked man got a fit of rage. Zorro had been pushed to his limits, without caring about the well-being of the soldiers his tactics changed.

He whistled for Toronado, mounted his faithful stallion and thundered through the human brute power Zorro slammed the weapons out of the lancer's hands, carved Z's in uniforms and aggressively kicked the fighting men out of his way. A few of them got such a severe blow, that they fell unconsciously on the ground.  
The alcalde had never stopped the whipping, not even to take a break or to remove the sweat that appeared on his forehead. Before he started he had taken off his coat, revealing a white ruffled shirt that didn't restrain his movements as much as the coat. The alcalde's neck was completely exposed, because the buttons on the top of his shirt were unbuttoned.

When Zorro had reached the alcalde he remained on his horse. Without warning he slashed a Z on the alcalde's neck with his whip.  
"Let this be a warning, Alcalde," Zorro said between gritted teeth. "The next time I won't be so forgiven."  
"Is that a threat?" DeSoto questioned touching the sore spot on his neck, just above his open shirt, but didn't seem afraid at all.

"A promise, I assure you," Zorro answered curtly. "The next man who dies by your hand …"  
Zorro couldn't finish his sentence as he was suddenly attacked by a few lancers, who had got on their feet again. Zorro responded quickly and was able to hold them off. Before anyone could blink, Zorro had turned his magnificent horse and left the pueblo.

The alcalde had called his lancers and sent them on a wild goose chase, in vain. They never caught the fox, but the whipping had stopped, before the number had been reached.  
When the soldiers were gone, a few citizens hurried over to the beaten farmer. He was alive, but barely. Doctor Hernandez treated his wounds and tried to ease the man's pains. No one was sure whether the man would live or not.

Many people thought it was Zorro's doing that the farmer had almost died. Fortunately the most influential citizens stood up for the masked avenger and said that it was the alcalde's doing. Zorro had been the one who fought the alcalde and tried to make the pueblo a better place. At least he was able to stop the whipping, before the farmer had actually died. Everybody had said a prayer for the farmer, desperately hoping he would survive his wounds.

Despite of what had happened Victoria still thought the masked man was a brave and very impressive man. As impressive as he had first made his appearance, which she remembered as if it was yesterday.

**Four months ago**  
A little after dawn a group of lancers were leading twenty men with bound hands across the plaza. Those men were caballeros, but also a few richer farmers. Angry citizens stood shouting, while some women and children were crying as they saw the brave men stop beside the base of gallows.  
In the mob Victoria and Don Alejandro were present with their hearts in their toes. They couldn't believe it was actually happening again. Innocent men, who couldn't pay the absurd taxes, were about to be punished for not obeying the law, which in fact was only the alcalde's law and not the King's.

Victoria couldn't watch and do nothing. Therefore, she decided to at least try and stop the alcalde.  
"Victoria, don't do it," Don Alejandro warned, watching her running toward the scene.  
Victoria yelled over her shoulder, "Don Alejandro, they can't do this. I must do something!"

The next moment she disappeared in the angry mob of protesting citizens.  
"Alcalde," she shouted on top of her lungs while she hurried over to the group of innocent men, "you cannot be serious and hang these men, they …"  
"just couldn't pay the tax," the alcalde filled in for her, which took her off balance shortly. However the alcalde didn't give her a chance to speak out, "I know that you think I am out of my mind, and I agree with you for once."

"So you are going to let them go?" Victoria asked flabbergasted. Never in her dreams she expected him to be persuaded so easily.  
"No, my dear you are truly short-sighted, because if I were as sentimental like you and the rest of these citizens, the pueblo would not exist anymore."  
With a misleading tender touch the alcalde stroke Victoria's cheek toward her chin to lift it up, where after he added, "To survive in this dusthole, everybody needs to pay the tax!"

"Oh yes alright," Victoria's temper exploded and slammed his hand away, "to fill your pocket, you mean."  
The jaw of the alcalde set at the insult, "be careful senorita."  
The young spirited woman in front of him wasn't easily put off, "in the past you have threaten me many times, but never truly hurt me."

"I promise you, one day you'll give yourself to me." The alcalde turned around to precede his job. At his sign a lancer stepped forward and the next that Victoria knew was being dragged backward by the lancer to the porch of the tavern where Don Alejandro joined her. She was close to tears out of frustration and powerlessness.  
"Strength, Victoria. Show them your strength," the grey haired man advised. "You did what you could. It's the alcalde who is responsible. Not you."

In the meantime the alcalde had walked up a few steps of the gallows and raised his voice, "Listen!"  
The crowd grew quiet, focused on their leader, their cruel manipulator, their heartless dictator.  
"These people have been found guilty for countering the law. They don't pay their taxes, refuse to contribute to make good facilities in and around the pueblo. Without the taxes there are no funds for improvements."  
Victoria wanted to scream that there were no funds and no plans for improvements, but Don Alejandro took her arm in a firm grips, his eyes telling her to hold her tongue.

"For these crimes hanging will be their punishment," DeSoto stated not caring, if he had to hang the entire pueblo.  
"Alcalde, you can't be serious!" a caballero shouted out of the crowd.  
"Who was that?" The alcalde searched the people, but he didn't found the speaker, nor did the crowd point the man out afraid of receiving the end of the alcalde's anger.

"How much money are these people behind on paying?" the same voice rang over the plaza.  
"Show yourself!" DeSoto stated again and looked around. All people looked stoically at the gallows, hiding their fears.  
"I'm warning you," The alcalde became nervous as he felt his power over the people showed a crack, when his demand wasn't answered. The soldiers became restless.

After a silence the commanding voice continued from another direction of the plaza, "you can't find me and it's making you nervous, isn't it?"  
The people became restless too. Some resistance against the alcalde's tyranny grew, because a mysterious person was able to make the alcalde uncomfortable.  
"We must help them," someone suddenly called.  
"He is right, those men shouldn't be punished. Death sentence is not proportionate," another person spook up.

The alcalde felt things were going out of control and gave the final order to precede the procedure, "Prepare the gallows, sergeant."  
Unexpectedly, Don Alejandro shouted, "Alcalde, this insane. Their death, the death of any of us, will only strengthen the will of the people. You have been bulling us far too long. The people won't stand for it any longer."  
"Don Alejandro," the alcalde's voice was filled with disgust and sarcasm, "I didn't know you were so eager to return to my jails or even try out my gallows."

"You truly are insane," Don Alejandro growled between his teeth and squeezed his riding gloves.  
"Sepulveda," DeSoto called for his corporal, "arrest that arrogant caballero, again."  
The alcalde stared at his victim as if he were the eagle's prey. "He will be flogged after the hanging. Anyone who disturbs will follow."

A sound of everyone holding their breaths of indignity filled the air of the plaza.  
"Sergeant bring up the first man," the alcalde continued as if he hadn't noticed anything at all.  
"That wouldn't be wise, Alcalde," the voice of the still unknown person shouted. The alcalde turned around quickly to face the man. This person wasn't far from him.  
Then he found the caballero right in front of him, throwing away his head and cape, which were richly covert with detailed colorful patterns.  
A black mask was first revealed, and later partly covert with a black hat. The rest of the clothes were as black as the mask, made of the same material. A long black cape partly hid his clothes.

DeSoto was speechless for a moment, but after two seconds in which he had observed this strange appearance his authoritarian attitude returned.  
"Don't you dare interrupting and intervening governmental business!"  
"That depends on whether they are just or not," the man, all dressed up in black clothes, replied with arrogance, that annoyed the alcalde.  
"Who are you?" the alcalde demanded to know. He was sure this man was an idiot and took his pistol to underline his seriousness.

Rather dramatically Zorro cracked his whip and threw the pistol out of harm's way, where after he made a formal bow, spilled with sarcasm, when he introduced himself. "I am Zorro. Friend to all those who support the cause of freedom. And the enemy to those who support tyranny."  
DeSoto's impatience grew, "lancers arrest this idiot. He will be the first to hang."

"Then you first will have to capture me," Zorro taunted and readied himself for the battle.  
A bit hesitantly the lancers approached the masked man to arrest him. They had never met a person dressed in black, like the adversary that was standing in front of them.  
"Don't be afraid," Zorro said with a boyish grin, which made his black moustache lift on his face, "I don't bite."

At that the soldiers attacked the masked man, who had a beautiful sword made of Toledo steal. Just before the attack, the masked man formally saluted and parried all soldiers off with only one blow each soldier.  
The alcalde had watched the scene with impiety, reached for his sword, when all soldiers were disarmed, and aimed for the man in black.  
"Such a leadership, señor Alcalde," Zorro toyed with the official, "I hope you are a worthier opponent than those inepts you call soldiers."

"Enough," DeSoto yelled as he went in the offence, "I will have you hung immediately."  
"You haven't captured me," Zorro stated as a matter of factly.  
The alcalde took the bait, as his anger grew by every word his adversary said and slammed unreasonably fierce with his sword.

"Such fierceness, Alcalde," Zorro cautioned, "your sword may not like."  
"It's not up to you to decide what my sword likes or not," the alcalde spat with fire and added with a statement, "Zorro!"  
"As you wish," Zorro smiled broadly, showing his perfect white teeth. With a simple blow after a contre-riposte Zorro sent the alcalde's sword flying through the air in two pieces.

Immediately after that, Zorro pressed his sword against the alcalde's neck. "Don't you all move."  
All soldiers froze at the spot and remained motionless when Zorro continued.  
"Arrest those men again without cause and I'll put your neck with such an elegant cravat in the noose. The devil will be welcoming such a refined man as yourself with open arms."

Alcalde DeSoto vowed through clenched teeth, "I swear, I will hunt you down. Even if it will be to the end of the world."  
The masked man didn't look afraid in the least. "That can be far, however I really look forward to it, Alcalde, but be warned. My patience is rather thing and if anyone dies because of your greed, you will pay for it with your own skin."  
"Is that a threat, senor?" the alcalde asked provokingly.

"No, it is not!" the masked man stated firm, but his tone of voice was much softer when he continued. "It's a promise."  
Everybody was frozen. Nobody had dared to speak to the official like that in years and now an anonymous stranger had and with this outspoken attitude he had actually signed his death verdict with full knowledge. The people couldn't comprehend the situation.

The alcalde was at a loss for words two seconds either. It was all that was needed to have the masked avenger take his leave.  
"Lancers!" the alcalde commanded, "after him! I want his head presented on the tavern's silver plates."  
The soldiers stumbled into action and the chase began.

The people watched the man following a man, who seemed to be more like a demon than a human being as the man seemed to have vanished in the middle of the day. In the distance they saw the soldiers following nothing in particular, despite the masked man hardly had any start of the uniformed men.  
"Do you have any idea who that could be?" Don Alejandro whispered in Victoria's ear never leaving his eyes of the hunt before them.

"No, I don't, do you?" Victoria still watched scene when she replied in a low voice.  
"No, I don't."  
"I am sure I have never met such a brave and dashing man in my entire life," Victoria revealed.

This made Don Alejandro take his eyes away from the horseriders and focus them on the young woman next to him. The look on her face he recognized immediately and it scared him as if he was hit like a bullet through the bone.  
Weeks later the citizens had come to only one conclusion, when, again, Zorro had appeared to fight injustice, that the alcalde had made up to hold his promise, trying everything to capture the masked man, who was too cunning and saw all plans through.

People got used to the shameless taxes, but still feared for their lives. Life became a little easier with their guardian Angel protecting justice as best as he could. The fact that no one knew where he lived or how he could be reached to warn him in time, made their trust in him hanging on a thin threat.  
"Victoria," Don Alejandro called her name when he stuck his head through the curtains, which separated the kitchen from the taproom, "we have some new overnight guests. I installed them in the last two rooms. They wish to join dinner and ordered two plates tamales, three enchilada's and a chili con carne."

Whereas Victoria didn't respond immediately, he entered the kitchen and walked over to the table. "What is this?"  
"Courtesy of Zorro," Victoria replied eyes radiating with happiness.  
"Gracias a Dios," Don Alejandro looked up at the ceiling, "Zorro, bless Zorro."

"Si, Don Alejandro," Victoria smiled a beautiful smile, that Don Alejandro had seen rarely.  
"Let us quickly make all preparations for dinner," the old man suggested, looking a bit younger by his genuine smile as well. "The tavern is filled with people who still discuss today's happenings and all rooms have been booked. Business will be booming my dear, Believe an old man."  
Victoria sighed deeply at the memory why all those people are in the tavern. She prayed for the poor farmer.

Don Alejandro noticed and realized she hadn't heard, "For only our ears, Doctor Hernandez requested some light soup. He thinks the farmer will survive."  
Victoria smiled at her old friend hope appearing in her eyes again. Without another word Don Alejandro left the kitchen after he had sent her an encouraging smile. The next moment Victoria hurried to get all preparations done with only one thought in her mind, "Los Angeles had never been this exciting before."

Or were they wrong?

_-Z-_

to be continued

A/N Still wanting more? Love you guys for all your reviews, I really appreciate them.


	5. Taproom's excitement

At dinnertime Don Alejandro and Victoria had everything under control in the overly crowded tavern. Alicia and Pilar were serving the orders, while Victoria prepared the orders in the kitchen and Don Alejandro staffed the bar as he usually did.  
As every day, exactly at seven o'clock the alcalde walked into the tavern for his usual dinner, however this time everything had to be more than perfect. Don Alejandro noticed the official entering and immediately approached him to show him to his booked table, which was orderly set with china and a lace napkin put in an elegant silver napkin ring.

After the man had been settled, Don Alejandro walked back to the bar to fetch their best wine he had already opened to breathe.  
Perfectly the old man served the alcalde, who followed every move intently. When Victoria appeared with his dinner the alcalde took a short moment to thank them out of politeness, which he certainly did not feel.

Seemingly having the time of the world, the alcalde started eating his first dish and a light soup had followed. While he was eating he took the time to watch all other visitors of the tavern. Content, he observed that many food and drinks were consumed, filling his pocket, his facility for life, if the plans fail.

He noticed many rich caballeros joining their friends and business partners to make new deals. On other tables farmers decided to have a good meal, after they had done some great business on the market. Ignatio DeSoto was sure all those people came here to hear the latest gossips as well.

Further he noticed that half of the merchandisers, who sold their goods at the market, had stopped for a meal before heading home, wherever that was. He knew some merchandisers came from far, like the fisherman, a cranky and to his opinion an ill-favored person, who most of the time had a sad expression on his face. Ignatio never really talked with the man, but others seemed to get along with the man quite well, despite of his unrefined manners and negative approach of life.

To the alcalde's surprise the woman with the cloth stall sat in a corner close to the kitchen, sometimes enjoying a small conversation with Victoria. The woman was completely harmless and the alcalde allowed the little chats, knowing Victoria had to be a good hostess to keep the business going.

In the corner near the door, the kettle seller had ordered a wine. The alcalde snorted, watching the man enjoying his drink. That man had been too polite for his taste, but the man had acted always too neat for giving him a reason to arrest the merchandiser. The alcalde felt a huge dislike for the man. He decided not to let the man disturb his festive meal, which would have honored the King on his birthday.

His annoyance had only increased slightly when he heard nothing but the repetitive stories concerning the farmers flogging. The people didn't seem to get enough of talking about it and some had even suggested that the farmer had died. He had no idea how that man was doing and honestly he didn't care a bit. He decided to neglect the speculations, stopped paying any more attention to it and continued enjoying his delicious dish.

When he had almost finished his third course, the main menu, he noticed the merchandisers had already left the tavern.  
Mentally he prepared himself for desert. He wasn't surprised when Victoria entered with a big bowl filled with colorful fruit and a separate little glass filled with rum. He disgusted her art of precision, because there was no need again to punish her. As his dish was perfect, he didn't really feel like punishing her at all. Apparently the saying "the way to a man's heart is through his stomach" is true.  
Finally, the last course was up the menu.

DeSoto ordered a special coffee and decided to make his evening a better one than he thought it already was. He wanted to show everyone he was the one who ruled. Everybody already knew, but he wanted to make that a statement.  
"Alejandro," DeSoto addressed the bartender of the tavern, for as long he allowed him to be, forgetting the title on purpose, "you must realize there will be two evenings like this one every year."

Don Alejandro swallowed hard afraid of what the alcalde was going to say out loud, that he only suspected. "I am not sure what you mean."  
Victoria just stood and watched, ready to step in and keep her friend from attacking the alcalde. The reason the alcalde was about to disclose his secret was not a coincidence, she figured.  
"You disappoint me, Alejandro," DeSoto responded nonchalantly, "you know, you never asked me the circumstances of Diego's death."

"If you knew, you would have told me soon or later, so what is the point," Don Alejandro stated, not wanting to take the bait.  
Undisturbed DeSoto continued, "in three days it would have been five years, when your son was thrown in jail. Where he died about a half year ago."  
"No," Victoria exclaimed in shock.

"You'd better believe it." DeSoto replied and continued with his hyena sounding laugh, "his arrest had put me on this post. Quite something to celebrate, don't you think?"  
DeSoto noticed Don Alejandro biting his tongue, but he decided to provoke the man a little more, wondering how far he could go before the old man would attack him. He was actually hoping for it as he would love to have another reason to punish the man. "You know, your son's death could help me getting an even higher rank. Another day to celebrate."

"Then allow me to join your party," a black demon falling down the ceiling said. When the demon had landed on the perfectly set table, he turned out to be no one but Zorro, "señorita, pardon my boots."  
On the satin table-cover two large prints were left behind, when the man dressed in black clothes had replaced his boots.

Alcalde DeSoto had jumped up from his chair in outrage, but immediately he stood with his sword in his hand ready to fight the intruder of his party.  
"If you insist," Zorro accepted the invitation for a battle and saluted.  
DeSoto's answer was an immediate attack. It was a fruitless attempt to disarm the masked man, whereas the masked man had suspected the attack and knew he had made the alcalde angry.

He, too, was angry to the core of his whole being, but he had kept Sir Kendall's advice to heart, and kept his head cool.  
"You will pay for interrupting my dinner," the alcalde growled, before he attacked again with his sword pointed at his adversary's heart, "you will pay for this!"

Zorro twisted his wrist of his swords arm, moving his sword counter clockwise to blow off the deathly aim. With its force the alcalde's sword was sent to the far left of his side, making his arm go flat against his chest. The alcalde got off balance, when the left side of his body wrenched backward. Zorro didn't hesitate a moment, kicked him against his chest on the part that was moving away from to increase the reaction. Then Zorro jumped off the table, but the alcalde recovered quickly and attacked anew. Just after Zorro had landed, the alcalde ran toward him. He easily parried the offense by stepping aside and followed the alcalde's path, when the angered man passed him without hitting the human mark.

Outrageous, the alcalde returned to his opponent and tried a riposte followed by a counter attack and some other quick movements, but the masked man didn't perspired a bit, while he was breathing heavily. He knew he couldn't loose this battle. He tried some other sword skills, but the masked bandit never seemed to lose the upper hand.  
Even a compliment for Victoria coming from the bandit's lips, made him livid. That was his Achilles. Zorro found a small gab in his defense and used it against him. With some quick blows the alcalde sensed his sword sailing through the air.

Zorro relished the fight going on, because the outcome had already presented to him on a golden plate. The alcalde was definitely no match for his master skills. He had already known from the very beginning, but he fancied humiliation the official. He wanted to entertain the pueblo, revealing to them that the alcalde really could be moved and defeated like any other human being.

His reward was a bright smile coming from one of the most beautiful women he had ever met.  
"Señorita, you are like a rare, but delicate flower in the dessert," Zorro complimented Victoria when he found a short moment he could distract his attention from the battle.  
The alcalde reacted like a mad man, ran with his sword pointed at him as if he was a knight sitting on his horse, trying to let the other knight fall with his lance.

Zorro jumped in time, turned over the man's back and kicked him against his butt. The alcalde slammed against the front door. A few lancers entered the tavern that moment, sweeping the alcalde away with the tavern's door.  
"Zorro," all soldiers called and went into the offense. The swordfight didn't last long, but long enough to make the alcalde participant again. Zorro was getting bored and decided to finish the battle. The soldiers got knocked out by one simple blow of Zorro's fist or the shield on the hilt of his sword. The alcalde finally met the tip of the famous sword.

"I think this was enough practise, don't you think?" Zorro stated with humor.  
"We don't need any lessons from you," the alcalde bit back, feeling insulted by his opponent.  
"I haven't come to teach you any swordlessons," Zorro made clear with a deadly voice.

"For what have you come?" the alcalde inquired with a squeezed voice. The tip of the sword was almost tearing his skin on his chest.  
"To remind you to leave these good people alone," Zorro's rage was rising, "you almost killed a person and still it isn't sure whether he will live."  
"That is his problem," the alcalde said non plussed.

"Wrong," Zorro shouted and the hold on the sword enforced. "I had warned you, Alcalde to not hurt these people."  
"Of course you have," the alcalde agreed involuntary. He hoped the masked man could be misled when he said the things the man wanted to hear.  
"It turned out you haven't been listening," Zorro's voice had been a mere whisper and sent shivers to everyone's spine. Everybody in the tavern was silent, intently listening to the conversation.

"I … eh …" the alcalde stammered.  
"Needing a fresh reminder?" Zorro finished the speaker. " no problem, señor Alcalde."  
Before alcalde DeSoto was able to understand its meaning, Zorro stroke three times against the alcalde's neck with his sword.

"This signature you can hide with your beautiful cravats. The next time I will give you a reminder that is not so easy to hide."  
The next moment Zorro punched the man real hard in the face, sending him backward against the frontdoors again. The alcalde had seen this coming and tried to move out of the way, but the blow had sent him flying through the air. He was still conscious, when the masked man saluted on his way out.

The soldiers were too impressed to move an inch and watched the town's hero moving toward the kitchen. Before the man disappeared through the curtains, he turned.  
"Oh, by the way, Alcalde, it is of no use to go to the Doctor to punish the farmer, I already had taken the man to a safe place to recover."

The alcalde sighed in frustration when tried to get back on his feet. The next words of his enemy made him look up.  
"Another thing, Alcalde," Zorro warned with a grin as if he was enjoying to scare the alcalde, "if the farmer dies, you will pay for it."

The next moment the man dressed in black had vanished.

_-Z-_

to be continued

A/N Again, Love you guys for all your reviews, I really appreciate them. I know I still keep you in the dark about many things, but all will be revealed. I promise you!


	6. Houses' worries

A/N after a few reviews I had to add/ change a minor things in the fifth chapter. Nothing shocking, though I thought I needed to change it. You need not to reread it. The only 2 things I changed were about the entrance of the alcalde in the tavern. A specific time, 7 pm is added. The other thing was about the fisherman. It turned out I had a translation error. the explanation to this "chagrin" person is, him being cranky and to the alcalde's opnion ill-favoured. The fisherman most of time had a sad face.

So that was all.

Enjoy this chapter, which had given me a headache and a writer's block - as far as one could speak of it. Those real nice reviews and shared thoughts helped me continue the story and give some things a second thought. I even wanted the writing go lots faster and have it finished, but I am already happy with being able to post another chapter. There are still lots of more chapters to come.

Again I hope you will like it and who knows other questions are answered. Will Diego finally show up in public?

-Z-

"Gracias, Felipe," a distinguished young man replied, "I really don't know what I would do without your help. The alcalde really has no scruples, but isn't stupid either."  
The younger version of the confident man looked proud back at him and it was the same man, the master, who saw the same gratefulness that shone from the teenager's brown eyes.  
"You were very brave last night, the whole day in fact," Diego praised and thoughtful added, "maybe too brave."

Felipe smiled boyish and shook his head, pointing at Diego to show him that he had been very brave and maybe a bit arrogant as well.  
"Touché mi amigo," Diego grinned, which faded when more words were said. "Still, without your help I couldn't have come just in time to give the alcalde a piece of his own to save the poor farmer from death."  
Diego sighed deeply and in a sober voice he continued, "I regret not having been able to come in time to prevent any punishment at all."

Felipe pointed out that there was no way they could have come earlier. "Besides, the farmer still lives."  
"I don't know for how long," Diego argued stubbornly. Felipe noticed a pair of glancing eyes shining dangerously, promising retribution will follow if the farmer died because of the flogging.  
Felipe didn't want to hear any of it, "the doctor said that there was still a chance for senor Senon. Time will tell."

"I think we should change that Felipe." Diego said raising his chin in the air with a determined expression on his handsome features. "This will be the last time this alcalde made a victim."  
_"How?"_  
"I don't know," Diego answered Felipe's question. "It is too dangerous to have señor Jerardo have the disguise with him all the time. We will have to find a place to hide it."

With that statement Felipe agreed and studied the rough, cold walls of their surroundings hoping to find the answer written on it. Suddenly his head jerked up and he explained this thoughts.  
"The tavern?" Diego questioned and thought the possibilities, but Felipe continued signing.  
"In her room?" Diego was surprised, "I am not sure, you have seen the alcalde."

A nod confirmed the young man was aware of the alcalde's interests, however he knew the señorita wasn't interested.  
"I know Felipe," Diego put a hand against his temple, knowing he was taking the world upon his shoulders, while all he wanted was taking revenge and he wasn't sure about señorita Victoria's motives. He wasn't sure he trusted women anymore either, but that could be caused by having lost his trust in the world. The only person he truly trusted was Felipe.

"Tell me again why you think that would be the best option?"  
As asked Felipe pointed out the pros and cons, which convinced the older man to carry out their plan as soon as possible.  
"Be careful, Felipe," Diego smiled to soften the warning edge he had in his voice, "you will get too smart for your own good."

Felipe's hands made some arguing sign's while a proud look remained on Felipe's face.  
"You are right," Diego couldn't help showing his appreciation. "you were the one who took the señor Senon to our home at your suggestion."

~Z~

"Señor Zorro," a surprised face covered with lines from sorrow and worry exclaimed in a whisper. "Are you hurt?"  
The masked man showed his bright teeth when he smiled at the question, contradicted and noticed the doctor's awareness change into a more relaxed posture, as the adrenalin slowly vanished from the other man's body.  
"Doctor, I have come for another matter..."

The doctor stepped aside to invite the masked man in. From experience he knew the less talked on the streets the less the alcalde knew. The masked man entered the small house, which was at the far corner of the pueblo. By noticing the man's possessions it was obvious the man was a humble man, who possibly hardly had time to relax.

A cough interrupted the masked man's thoughts and looked up to see where the sound came from. At the back of the house there seemed to be a room.  
Doctor Hernandez noticed the question on the stranger's face, even though it was partly covered with a piece of satin.  
"In the backroom one of my patients is resting," the doctor explained.

"The farmer who had been flogged today?" Zorro asked and his worry for the beaten man was evidence.  
"Zorro, you know I don't speak about my clients, that is a code."  
"Don't worry, Doctor, I would never forget that," Zorro made sure when he casually turned his head to watch the Doctor straight into his face.

"You said you had a mission," the doctor changed the conversation.  
"The farmer is my business," Zorro stated and continued before the doctor could deny, "I heard the farmer has no family and I have a place he can stay and is taken good cared after."  
"Would that be your home, Zorro?" the doctor guessed.

"That would be too easy for the alcalde to find me, wouldn't it?" Zorro answered with a charming smile.  
The doctor slightly raised an eyebrow, twisted the corner of his mouth and moved his head to the left shortly in understanding, while a vision of the alcalde hunting Zorro entered his mind.  
"But I thought it would make things easier for you to help others in the pueblo," Zorro continued as if the question after his whereabouts was never asked, "if señor Senon is being taken cared after at another place, where you can visit him any time you need."

"How can I trust you won't kill the farmer any way?" the doctor asked skeptically.  
Zorro didn't really like the suggestion and answered, "why would I trouble myself coming here or even try to safe him from the alcalde's whims at the first place?"  
"How do you plan to move him?" Doctor Hernandez asked worrying over his patient's health increasing.

"I brought someone with me with a cart. At my sign, he will drive to the backdoor. I will follow him from a distant for protection. Nobody will be the wiser and think someone is taking hay to his home for the cattle or horses."  
"Where will you take him to?" the doctor further inquired.  
"To a place about five miles at the west side of the pueblo," the man in black answered.

"I'll get my bags," the doctor replied and started packing immediately. The man in black clothes remained in the corner of the room, waiting for instructions.  
"You will find the patient in the backroom," doctor Hernandez mentioned, which moved the masked man into action. On tiptoe Zorro walked into the room after he received the approving nod from the doctor. With his heart in his boots Zorro watched the man laying on his stomach on a bed.

"Can you carry señor Senon to your cart, Zorro?"  
Zorro partly looked over his shoulder when he heard the doctor approaching, but faced the poor man when he answered, "No problem."

Carefully, the masked man lifted the man from the bed. The man, despite of his unconscious state, groaned in pain, when Zorro touched the sore spots on his body and the weight of his own body increased the pressure on the bruises.  
Zorro followed the doctor out of the small house and made a sound of a night creature, that was answered by a cart rounding the corner of the backyard a few seconds later. By the driver's looks the doctor assumed it was a farmer, who only had a dark look on his face.

With the help of a small, slim farmer with a dirty face. Doctor Hernandez stared at the young farmer shortly and doubted he had ever treated the man. With light feet and energy that seemed a never-ending source, the farmer silently helped the masked man to get the unconscious farmer on the cart and covert the man.

When everything was settled, Zorro spoke to the farmer, giving some instructions. The farmer touched his black moustache, with had long edges hanging down at both sides of his chin. The doctor noticed their hushed communication and his worries vanished. These men were good men and he couldn't help but think that even the farmer could be in disguise. If so, he had to admit that these two men must be the smartest people in the territory.  
Zorro walked back toward the doctor, "His name is Santiago, don't mind him. All I know is he always appeared to be in a rotten mood, but he is good at heart. He probably won't say much on the road."

The doctor made a hand gesture to wave the warming off.  
"I will follow from a distance to make sure that there will be no interruptions," Zorro continued.  
"You will not ride along with us?" the doctor asked a bit confused.

"I would only attract unwelcome passengers," Zorro replied with a handsome smile on his friendly looking face, as far the mask didn't cover it.  
The doctor gave a small smile to hide a new worry. The man in front of him was right, they shouldn't be conspicuous.  
The doctor walked over to the cart and climbed the seat. When he sat next to the farmer, Santiago handed him a poncho and sombrero. Determined dark brown eyes under dark think eyebrows met the surprised doctor's sending out the message to wear it.

"Indeed," the doctor mumbled, "we shouldn't attract attention."  
When the doctor wore his disguise, the driver softly slapped the reins and on a slow walk the mount followed the road to the new place where señor Senon would stay during his recovery.  
During their ride, doctor Hernandez sensed Zorro's presence in the distant. His other companion had only coughed or nodded a few times at a question or statement the doctor had to break the silence. Santiago had even lifted his noose or made a face that lifted his moustache up or pressed it down, but further there was nothing and the doctor gave up a conversation.

Without any disturbances the cart arrived at a small cabin. The doctor was confused, he hadn't seen this small house before and he thought he had known all houses in the pueblo. Zorro suddenly showed up at the cart, making the doctor jump slightly.  
Against better judgment, the doctor hoped the alcalde would feel hunted by the preying eyes of this avenger.

"Gracias Santiago," Zorro thanked the farmer. Together they got señor Senon from the cart and took him to a bed in the cabin. When the farmer was lying down, Santiago left the small house. The doctor examined the man to make sure the ride wasn't too much for the man's health.  
Content the doctor faced the strangers, "who will be taking care of him?"

-Z-

Driven by anger, a black person urged his black stallion over the rough countryside, through a forest and over meadows, hunted by the image of a man who was fighting for his life. Even though there is no need to hurry to town, Zorro felt it took him forever to get there. But finally he reached the pueblo, where he left a message on the alcalde's desk. As the alcalde wasn't in the office, he decided to visit the tavern to see if the man was there. He entered the tavern through a window on the second floor. On the balcony he had watched the alcalde having his extraordinary dinner. To add to his frustrations he noticed the alcalde taunting his father. Before the alcalde was able to hurt his father even more than he already had, Zorro jumped down by the chandelier on the well-served table, destroying the delicious food. Zorro heard the alcalde shout outraged, "My dinner! You destroyed my dinner. You will pay for it!"

Zorro wasn't moved, but quickly finished his business to make it clear to the alcalde to leave everybody alone.  
Immediately after Zorro had defeated the alcalde and given him a final warning he left the pueblo and went home.

Arrived home, he quickly changed into his normal clothes and checked on señor Senon. Felipe was still sitting at the farmer's bed, but the doctor had left.  
Felipe gave Diego a questioning glance the expectation to share his adventure. Diego couldn't refuse to enlighten his ward and told every detail. Felipe sensed Diego's rage was close to the maximum and admired the man's rein on his emotions.

Felipe had a large smile on his face when he heard about the alcalde's humiliation.  
"It suited him well," he thought. On the other hand his heart ached for don Alejandro, when he thought of how many insults don Alejandro had had to take last years. He wondered how Diego's father was doing after that tormenting conversation with the alcalde and Zorro having interrupted that very conversation.

Memories of the last moments that he had been in the pueblo entered his mind, reviving his fear, he really hoped don Alejandro wasn't fearing for retribution as much as he probably had during all those years he had been living in the tavern, now Zorro had put the alcalde on his place several times.

Despite of Felipe's hopes, fear had become a deeply rooted emotion in don Alejandro's system and Victoria's as well. After Zorro had left the tavern, the alcalde had returned to his office, being totally thrown off balance, mentally. In his office he was licking his wounds and a new plan to get rid of that nefarious bandit, Zorro, and keeping hold on his two main victims was brewing in his mind.

Don Alejandro and Victoria had continued their jobs pretending the whole scene with the alcalde hadn't affected them at all. However, after every one had turned home they would give in to their fears and doubts on their own.  
If Felipe had known this, he would surely have felt the weight on his shoulders increasing and getting more impatient for the blow to give. But Felipe knew he had to be patient, for everybody's sake, he had learned from experience, moreover Diego had instructed him over and over again.

Felipe decided there was only one thing he could do to make the world he lived in a better world, which meant taking care of the still unconscious farmer and assist Diego in all their preparations to get their plan into motion. He didn't care for their masquerades, but he longed to have a home he could feel safe in again and not needing to look over his shoulders while he kept hiding and running away.

_-Z-_

to be continued


	7. Forest's secrets

A/N it seems I can't say enough how much I appreciate your messages/ reviews. This chapter is sort of B-day chapter for a friend. Hope you all like it and still have questions unanswered, to have me continue. I won't keep you from reading ...

-Z-

A sound in the mainly dark room got Felipe out of his slumber and made him jump into action. He crept toward the door of the room, waited and when he thought he noticed the intruder entering the room, he hit the person real hard wherever he thought he could do the most damage. The punch was effective by the sound the intruder made.  
"Ouch, Felipe," was the small voice's answer to the hit. Felipe recognized the voice instantly and lit the candle to have some light in the room.

Felipe noticed Diego keeping himself from hitting the ground by seeking support from a second chair standing at the foot of the bed. It was obvious Diego was in pain as he kept holding his hands over the higher part of his torso.  
One of the teenager's hands covered Felipe's mouth in shame. It was never his intention to hurt this visitor.  
Diego noticed the gesture and thoughtfully stated, "it reminds me to not snooping around when I am in your surroundings."

Felipe's face showed remorse and all he could do was guiding Diego to a chair. When Diego sat down, Felipe started expression his emotions with many hand gestures, letting the older man know he was deeply sorry for having hurt him again whereas it hadn't been his intention, not the this time and in the end, nor the first time.  
Diego tried to calm the young man down as far as he was able to speak, while he also focused on trying to breathe. "This time, the fault was all but mine, Felipe."

This remark caused only more apologies and even some cursing for the natural reflexes.  
Diego thought differently, "Felipe stop it. Stop it. I don't think you have broken my ribs, stop apologizing. You should be proud for your alertness and acting on it without thought."  
"But I hurt you," Felipe pointed out as if Diego wasn't aware of being hurt.

"Just a sore spot, Felipe, nothing to worry about," Diego said quickly before he wanted to make his statement. "Your reflexes had kept you alive all this time."  
The teenager refused to see it and waved off the compliment.  
"I am very proud of you amigo," Diego said with a serious expression on his face, "you truly are a survivor. I am still thanking the Lord for you trying to rob me."  
Felipe had a faint smile on his face and stared at the still form of señor Senon to avoid Diego's gratefulness.

-Z-

For weeks he had been running and hiding again. From time to time he was able to get some food and water to keep himself alive. It all seemed a hopeless case and he wasn't sure why he was running and hiding, being alone again. Alone, all alone, like some years ago. How many time had actually past? He wasn't sure. All he knew, was that his life had turned out the way his parents probably never had wanted him to become. He felt ashamed, but a few years ago he had no choice but choose this road or … death. He would have been as dead as his mother, whose face he had forgotten whereas he was too young to remember her.

Thinking of his father he felt more shame burdening his soul as if he had to carry a huge millstone around the world. He was sure he hadn't made his father proud of him of the things he had done. He had misled people on many occasions and robbed people even more times. Despite of all the bad things he had learned and bad things he had done to come this far, his set of ethics hadn't been wiped out. He still prayed for better days, better days he had experienced in his life a short time once, when he had a permanent roof over head, a soft bed to sleep in and not a single day he needed to have an empty stomach. The best thing he forgot to put on top of his list was having people around him who loved and respected him no matter what.

But what was his father able to do and say about how bad his son had become? The poor fellow was laying 30 inches under the green heavenly carpet. He was dead as well, probably buried beside his dead wife. He had no idea.  
The father figure, that had entered his life not long after his parent's death, could have something to say about everything, if he ever heard about his misdeeds, and if he ever found him at all. He wasn't sure how he was doing, but he was sure that the man wouldn't proud of him after he had confessed everything. His face, too, had become vague, but not as much as his own father's of whom he even hadn't known his face.

The young teenager was hiding again in the bushes, not for being found, but following the activities of the next prey he had followed on the road. Not long before the lone man with a horse and wagon decided to leave the road. The teenager followed the man, when he had left the main road, which the teenager thought not the smartest thing in this area, and finally stopped somewhere in the forest.  
As he was observing his prey, he got a feeling he shouldn't rob this man. The man, who appeared to be a farmer who was taking an enormous pile of hay to his home for his cattle, horses or other animals that would have loved having it for breakfast. The young teenager with a clever mind and sharp dark brown eyes knew this had to be a disguise and was prepared that he had to deal with another bandit, who just was too stupid to go out on his own as he hadn't seen any other person the last two hours he had been observing.

"Now I only need to wait for the right moment to see where the bounty is under the hay," the teenager with long dark brown hair thought. He tightened his hair at the back of his head to make sure it wouldn't distract him and blind him at the moment he needed his eyes the most. Another precaution was cutting his hair a few days ago while it was tied with a small rope. The shorter his hair, the less chance it was to make it his downfall. He would have loved to have it shorter, but he didn't want to look like an idiot when he had cut it too short at one side and longer at the other side.

After another hour waiting, his patience was rewarded. The man, with a very short beard and moustache, had walked away to the brook to wash himself.  
Silently, he crawled toward the cart, jumped on it and searched through the hay, where he had seen the other man rearranging the hay. His hands found something heavy within seconds. A feeling of Eureka almost overwhelmed him. If it where weapons, he would have money. He would go to the market, he knew how to do it and he knew how to count. If it were money, it would only be the easiest way to have his dreams come true. He saw a vision … disappearing when he suddenly was grabbed by two strong hands and sent him flying through the air.

When he hit the ground, he immediately looked up to see his opponent. His shock was shortly visible in his eyes. "Dios, a big man."  
The man approached dangerously, but the teenager was faster and kicked the man real hard in the stomach or where he thought it was while he moved out of the man's way. By the sound the man made, the teenager knew he had hit his target. A small smile crept on his face when he noticed the man lying on the ground, in real pain.

He knew he looked small, but he was strong. People underestimated him on regular base. The teenager ran to the cart again to get his reward. Surprised seeing the grass from only an inch away, he hadn't realized he was taken down by a rope.  
"That is for not paying attention every second during your battle!" the man said with a very shallow breath, but he had gotten to his feet.  
The little bandit had looked over his shoulder and seen the anger radiating from his victim and tried to get back on his feet again. Unfortunately the larger man was faster and practically jumped on him, tried to turn him around. The teenager struggled real hard with the only thoughts, "I have to run, run or I will be dead."

When his muscles were getting tired and the larger man still seemed to be in shape as if the battle had just started, he felt himself being turned to face the sky. "Dios, estoy muerto."  
The teenager had noticed the dead cold glare blazing from the older and larger man's eyes. He realized he had picked out the wrong person today. This man had to be a bandit by look of his rough appearance. What had he missed today when he saw the man riding along the road? All these three years he had known that he could die in a fight, but now that death was at his doorstep, all the teenager's hopes and dreams got shattered into a million pieces. He regretted not having used his time better to make something of his bad ordeal.

"Felipe is that you?"  
The young bandit was too deep in thought, preparing to die, that he hadn't noticed the blow from the upheld iron fist had never come.  
Confused, the scared teenager opened his eyes and watched the grown up man, who was still hovering above him. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion, while he nervously observed the older man. How did the man know him and did he want to bring him to the authorities? And where had he seen those blue eyes before?

The older man's muscles relaxed a bit, giving the boy some more space, but let him know the force would be instantly back if the little trust he gave him was harmed. While the rough looking man let go a bit of his strength, the shirt of the boy moved, showing his collarbone. Only a few knew that there was a small dent on the collarbone. Only if you knew, you saw it. It had been there for practically all his life and the cause of it was unknown.  
"You must be Felipe, the little boy who was always underfoot at the hacienda." Surprise was evident in the man's voice. The speaker noticed that the boy underneath him was remembering things and slowly began to recognize him for who he was.

Felipe nodded and pointed at the man above him, followed by many hand gestures and a last affirmation of him truly being the young boy called Felipe.  
"Sí, it is me Diego!" the rough looking man called out and added a bit awkward, "I know I should shave myself."  
Diego was too happy after all his adventures to have met the young boy in the middle of nowhere to question why Felipe was so far from home wearing those torn clothes.

When they stood on their feet again, he couldn't help but tease the boy a little, "so you're Felipe?"  
The teenager nodded affirmative. A smile had appeared on his face and even his innocence had returned for a better part.  
"Ah, that's impossible," Diego said, while he held his hand about four feet from the ground, "you were just this tall when I left."  
Felipe placed his hand at about the same height as Diego's hand, then brought it up to the top of his head, showing his mentor how much he had grown during the time he had been away. He also drummed on his chest with his fist, meaning that he had grown a very brave boy too.

Diego smiled warmly a the boy, "then give me a hug before you're too big to hold."  
Hidden emotions suddenly overwhelmed the boy, which confused Diego terribly. However before interrogating him, Diego took Felipe in his arms for shelter, support and showing even unconditionally love, which he knew he felt for the youngster in his arms. He hadn't known he had harbored this deep feeling for the boy, but that very moment he discovered he would move the world for him to keep him safe and sound.

After a few moments, Diego whispered comfortingly in Felipe's ear not sure whether the boy still couldn't hear, "I guess we have a lot to discuss and learn to communicate."  
When Diego felt the boy nodding on his shoulder in agreement, his amazement was written plainly on his bearded face.  
Diego touched Felipe's shoulder and pushed him a little away from him to see his face. The boy had his eyes focused on Diego's chest or ground, but Diego wanted contact with him. "Felipe, look at me." At the softly spoken request the boy raised his head and worry was radiating from his chocolate brown eyes.

"You can hear, can't you?" Diego concluded with a broad smile on his face. Felipe visibly relaxed and a smile grew on his face, when Diego exclaimed, "that's wonderful!"  
Felipe was pulled back into another embrace, but sensed Diego's change of attitude. Without seeing it, Felipe knew that the expression on Diego's face had changed from one of happiness to one of confusion. Again Diego moved back an arm's length away.  
"When did you recover?"

Felipe bend his head while he signed that it had been gone when Diego had brought him at the hacienda. During their ride home the deafness disappeared.  
Diego got even more confused, "Why didn't you let us know?"  
Felipe many signs included stroking his chin, referring to Don Alejandro and a shove from left to the right.  
Diego interpreted the sign and asked for confirmation, "because of my father?"

A hand full of gestured followed in answer.  
Diego felt remorseful, "Felipe, my father would never treat you differently if he knew you could hear. He loves you, we all do. …"  
A heartbroken crying boy interrupted Diego's attempt to show the boy that he was really part of the family. Because of this reaction Diego realized that some was utterly wrong.  
Diego took the boy in his arms to let him cry for a long time. He thought about the time he had been in jail. At that time he figured he had a hard life, but having the teenager holding on to him, correction, clinging to him as if the world was crashing down, he felt that all those tormenting moments, which were only thirty, were nothing compared to what the boy must have been through.

When the tears had gone dry a bit, Diego heard Felipe's stomach rumble.  
"When was the last time you ate?" Diego feared the answer, but to his relief it was only six hours ago.  
"Why don't we find what I have for to eat and we tell each other what has happened while I was away."

Felipe gave a small smile in agreement. Thereafter both returned to Diego's camp. After another hour of talking Diego told Felipe to go to sleep, while he guarded their camp. Content and feeling safe, Felipe surrendered and fell asleep within a few minutes after he had signed good night.

_-Z-_

to be continued


End file.
